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As an adolescent, I went to charm school, where I learned to pour tea and relate to boys, which, as I recall, meant giving them the pickle jar to unscrew, whether it was too hard for me or not.

Sue Monk Kidd

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Sue Monk Kidd
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: August 12
Novelist
Writer
Sylvester
Georgia
Whether
Recalls
School
Tea
Unscrew
Hard
Charm
Pickle
Giving
Relate
Pickles
Meant
Adolescent
Boys
Jars
Learned
Pour
Went
Recall

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I have noticed that if you look carefully at people's eyes the first five seconds they look at you, the truth of their feelings will shine through for just an instant before it flickers away.
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Probably one or two moments in your whole life you will hear a dark whispering spirit, a voice coming from the center of things. It will have blades for lips and will not stop until it speaks the one secret thing at the heart of it all. Kneeling on the floor, unable to stop shuddering, I heard it plainly. It said, You are unlovable.
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I eventually found that the soul is more than an immortal commodity to win and save. It is the repository of the inner divine, the truest part of us.
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Sometimes, in order to say yes to what matters most, I must say no to good things.
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Nobody around here had ever seen a lady beekeeper till her. She liked to tell everybody that women made the best beekeepers, 'cause they have a special ability built into them to love creatures that sting. It comes from years of loving children and husbands.
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That's the sacred intent of life, of God--to move us continuously toward growth, toward recovering all that is lost and orphaned within us and restoring the divine image imprinted on our soul.
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My ultimate authority is the divine voice in my own soul. Period.
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I found that I could not climb my way up to God in a blaze of doing and performing. Rather, I had to descend into the depths of myself and find God there in the darkness of troubled waters.
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I said, If I was a Negro girl- He placed his fingers across my lips so I tasted his saltiness. We can't think of changing our skin, he said. Change the world-that's how we gotta think.
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Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can't remember who we are or why we're here.
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He'd gone to church for forty years and was only getting worse. It seemed like this should tell God something.
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I vividly remember the summer of 1964 with its voter registration drives, boiling racial tensions, and the erupting awareness of the cruelty of racism. I was never the same after that summer.
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I'd heard August say more than once, If you need something from somebody, always give that person a way to hand it to you. T. Ray needed a face-saving way to hand me over, and August was giving it to him.
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Every little thing wants to be loved.
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We have to acknowledge sometimes that this moment is enough. This place is enough. I am enough.
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There is nothing perfect...only life.
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Actually, you can be bad at something...but if you love doing it, that will be enough. - August Boatwright
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The world will give you that once in awhile, a brief timeout the boxing bell rings and you go to your corner, where somebody dabs mercy on your beat-up life.
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I could even feel how perishable all my moments really were, how all my life they had come to me begging to be lived, to be cherished even.
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Whatever else you do, listen to your Deepest Self. Love Her and be true to Her, speak Her truth, always.
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